


Stop Thinkin'

by olyphantastic



Category: Pantera (Band)
Genre: 90's Music, Awkward Sexual Situations, Band Fic, Band:Pantera, Competition, Double Penetration, First Time, Mild Language, Mild breath play, Multi, Music, Musicians, Oral Sex, Pantera - Freeform, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22486153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olyphantastic/pseuds/olyphantastic
Summary: Dime overhears some hanky-panky going on in Phil's bunk. This story has explicit sex between two guys and a girl.
Relationships: Dimebag Darrell/Original Female Character(s), Phil Anselmo/ Dimebag Darrell, Philip Anselmo/ Original Female Character
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	Stop Thinkin'

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: These are works of pure fiction. They are not intended to infringe on any rights by and of the companies and/or individuals involved. I do not own the characters, but if I did, we would be chilling right now. I do not make money from my fics.
> 
> Notes: Constructive criticism welcome. Leave me comments. I may write a prequel if people like it. This is part of the Grant Your Own Wish Challenge on Rockfic.

From the next bunk, Dime's fist slicked up his dick. He could hear Phil and some chick fucking around over in Phil's berth and when he looked out, he could see little flashes of skin and eyes through the curtain. He gave himself a squeeze, and closed his eyes, listening to the wet sounds emanating from across the aisle. When he opened them again, Phil's eyes were locked on his. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was standing up in all directions. He slowly stopped moving, and kept eye contact with Dime.

"Sorry, man. Didn't mean to intrude. You guys are making so much fuckin' racket. Don't stop on my behalf," Dimebag said, skin prickling with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. He slid his curtain closed and rolled over.

"Mmm. Ask him, Phil," a disembodied female voice came floating over across the aisle. Dime recognized it as their tour manager's.

"She wants to know if you wanna come over here. Doesn't have to be weird, dude. She's into it," Phil whispered. Dime faced the curtain and propped himself up on one elbow.

"Yeah? You into it, too?" Dime whispered back, struggling to hear each word over his pulse pounding in his ears.

"I don't know. Maybe? Never tried it before. Get your ass over here, you fucking dick, before I change my mind."

"Oh," Dime said as he slipped out of his bunk quiet as a mouse and into Phil's. As his eyes adjusted to the low light, he saw Phil was mostly naked, just boxer shorts and socks on. Their tour manager was disheveled; her threadbare, cotton nightgown hanging off one shoulder, and her mouth swollen from kissing. She had stubble burns on her neck and chest.

"Um, so, where y'all want me," he asked her. She responded by throwing her arms around his shoulders, climbing into his lap and shoving her tongue down his throat. She tasted like Wild Turkey and it sent a little thrill up his spine at the memory of Phil guzzling the stuff before tonight's gig. He ran his hands down her back, feeling her elegant body shift beneath the soft cotton. He continued lower, hoping to palm her ass but brushed Phil's fingers on her hip instead.

"Sorry, man," he said, returning his hands to his thighs, unsure about what he was allowed to touch on Phil's chick.

"Fuck, that's hot," Phil said, oblivious to Dime's apparent foible as he watched her grind against his guitarist. Phil tugged on the hem of her nightgown and pulled it off over her head, revealing her tanned, toned skin and supple breasts. She had a graceful body, long and lean and delicate. She ran her fingers through Dime's hair and pressed her pebbled nipples into his chest. Phil scooted up behind her to place tender kisses on her shoulder. She moaned into Dime's mouth. Dime didn't know what to do with his hands.

"It's OK, you can touch me. You can touch us. It's OK," she said as she licked her way to his Ace tattoo and onward to suck his nipple into her mouth. Dime groaned but didn't move.

"Let loose, jack. Stop thinkin' so much," Phil said. He reached out and brushed Dime's curls out of his face, slapping him playfully on the cheek. Dime grinned a face-splitting smile and went to swat Phil's hand away, but Phil caught him and intertwined their fingers instead. He watched as Phil's eyes glittered in the low light and his expression darkened from familiarly impish to lustful. As she worked to free him from his boxer shorts, Phil placed Dime's hand on Phil's chest and trapped it there beneath his massive paw, then went back to kissing his girl's shoulders, like it was nothing.

Dime's toes curled as she scraped her teeth along his nipple, and he felt Phil's muscles shifting as he ran his hands down her stomach, brushing his knuckles against the hair on Dime's gut to reach into her panties, just a whisper from Dime's rock hard dick. She rolled her hips in response and the back of Phil's hand brushed against Dime's tented boxers. Dime startled and with a jolt, banged his head against the wall. This bunk was larger than the others, but still too snug for a lot of room when seated. He slumped onto his side and scooted toward the middle of the mattress. She took advantage of the elbow room this created to finally relieve Dime of his underwear as he wiggled up the bed.

Phil deftly removed her panties single-handedly and finished undressing himself, cock springing free from it's white cotton confines. Jesus. Dime had seen Phil naked hundreds of times. His green room streaking was the stuff of legend. He'd never seen him with an erection, though. It was all a little overwhelming. He gulped and held onto the dingy bunk sheets.

Phil snugged up behind his girl and wrapped his arms around her. She twisted to capture his lips with hers, and ran her hands down his muscular thighs. They gazed down at Dime, expressions downright predatory.

"How do you guys feel about touching each other? Are you guys willing to kiss for me," she asked, sweetly.

Dime looked to Phil's face for a hint of what the hell was going on in that crazy head of his.

Phil's velvet voice was somehow even deeper when tinted with arousal. "Well, Darrell, I know you better than most anyone on this planet. You know me. I've fought with you, gone to jail with you, slept on the same filthy bus seat as you, showered with you, but this is uncharted territory. I'm OK with testing it out, if you are. If you're not, that's fine too. She can stay between us if that's what you want."

"I'm willing to do whatever. Let's blow it up," Dime responded, all bravado.

She could tell, despite the bluster, they were still uncomfortable being sexual with each other, so she leaned down and kissed the crown of Dime's head and lay alongside him. She dragged Phil closer by his nipple. He hissed, but followed nonetheless and settled on the other side of the guitarist.

"Dime, can I tell you about Phil," she purred, with a twinkle in her eye.

Dime cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah. Sure." He said, confused. Phil looked on, equally perplexed.

"You know, he kisses kinda like you do. He's sort of timid at first. Slow and soft, gentle. He's really gentle. The way it feels to have all that solid muscle pin you down and then kiss you so soft ... it's awesome. His hands are so talented and strong! When he goes down on me, it's like he's starving. The things he can do with his tongue! He's so skilled, Dime. He knows all the ways to make me sweat and scream. And, he's so sensitive when his face is between your legs. I swear he'll come without a hand on him if you moan his name just right. He likes it when I pull his hair and claw his back."

Phil stroked a hand slowly over his own weeping dick, smearing the slick along his shaft, and sighed at the sensation. Dime licked his lips and swallowed hard, his throat clicking in the relative silence as he stared dutifully at the ceiling and not Phil's dick.

She leaned in to lick Dime's neck and breathed into his ear, "You ever wonder what his mouth would feel like?"

Dime's larynx bobbed in his throat and his voice cracked a little when he answered, "I, uh... yeah. Maybe. Sometimes."

Phil moaned, and stripped his dick a little faster. She reached over Dime and trailed her hand over Phil's fluttering stomach. "Well, he's right there. You can find out. Here, let me help."

She straddled Dime's thigh and leaned down to kiss him. She ran her tongue along the seam of his lips until he opened his mouth for a proper kiss. She felt his arm brushing her breast as he slowly stroked his cock to fullness. She blindly reached for Phil and drew him closer. When she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face, she turned toward Phil. She kissed him inches from Dime's face, little wisps of Dime's hair still tangled in her fingers. Phil pushed her down onto Dime's chest to shove his tongue into her mouth. She pinched his nipple and he went rigid against her, groaning into her mouth. His dick bobbed obscenely.

Dime made a helpless little sound as his arm was now pinned to his body and unable to stroke his arousal. She turned her face toward Dime, and Phil followed her. She pressed her lips against Dime's again, but this time, Phil's were closing the distance, too. Phil's eyes were squeezed shut, but he kissed Dime with the same intensity, nipping at Dime's slack bottom lip, his tongue diving right in. She could feel his heart hammering in his chest. Phil whimpered, sounding every bit as strung out as Dime did. Dime's eyes bulged out of his head where he was pinned on the mattress.

"You gonna fuck me as good as Phil does, Dime?" She asked, as she slunk out from between them and grabbed them both by the dick. They moaned simultaneously as she urged their bodies closer and pressed their cocks together. She tried to fit her mouth around them both concurrently, only half succeeding, drool pooling on Dime's groin. Dime could feel the throbbing of Phil's dick against his own as her tongue and hands slicked along their lengths. Phil broke the kiss to stare down at her, biting his glistening lip and grunting each time her tongue dipped into his slit.

"C'mere, Phil," she moaned against Dime's dick. She grabbed Phil's hand and Dime's breath caught in his throat. "Help me. Hold my hair back."

Phil ran his hands over her head, gathering up the strands of hair out of her face, from the nape of her neck, off her shoulders. He traced his thumb along her cheek, Dime's dick making it bulge out obscenely. Dime's hips twitched as Phil brushed along the head of his cock through her skin. Phil pushed her head down on Dime's dick, and groaned at her gagging. Dime dug his fingers into Phil's thigh when Phil leaned down to catch her lips as she pulled off, just inches from Dime's pulsating cock. Phil moaned into her mouth as she pushed the taste of Dime onto his tongue. His huge hand snaked out to circle around hers where she stroked Dime. He mouthed at her chest as they caressed Dime together. Dime's knees jumped and the air wheezed out of him on every upstroke.

She positioned herself over Dime's dick and sunk down in one go, Phil's hand guiding it in then rubbing against the pretty pink place where they were joined. His thumb gently teased at her clit as she set up a lazy rhythm that had Dime squirming. His hands grabbed her hips to control her movement.

She kissed her way down Phil's torso, worshiping the miles of skin in her path. She swallowed Phil's obscene girth down until her nose was buried in the chestnut curls of his pubic hair. Phil yanked her hair a bit and his whole body swayed toward her, but his thumb never faltered between her thighs. One of her hands was behind her, forearm muscles flexing as she opened herself up. She pulled off of Phil with a squelch, leaving a trail of saliva from her lip to the ruddy head of Phil's dick.

She moaned wantonly into Phil's stomach and writhed atop Dime. She pried the guitarist's hands off her hips, and brought one to her lips so she could suck on each digit. She swiveled her hips in his lap and whined. Dime's eyes were as big as saucers as Phil crowded up behind her, his thigh hair brushing against Dime's, Phil's hands engulfing her pert breasts and tweaking her nipples until she keened around Dime's calloused fingers. One of his hands came to rest on Dime's thigh.

Phil said, "Darrell," in that smokey whiskey way of his. Dime's dick jumped. "Hold her still for me. I wanna see." Dime grabbed his tour manager's ass, spreading her cheeks for Phil.

"Fuck," Phil exhaled, and shoved her down onto Dime's chest, knuckles white where they gripped her shoulder. She panted, open mouthed, into Dime's Ace tattoo and Dime watched Phil's face.

Dime committed the sight to memory as his expression contorted in ecstasy. Her body yielded to him and he eased his way inside the tight clutch of her. Dime could feel every molten hot inch of Phil sliding in to her; nothing but a thin, slick membrane separating their cocks. Every ridge and vein stroked its way along Dime's dick until the velvet soft heat of Phil's balls snugged right up next to Dime's.

The girl squealed into Dime's neck, and her hips pulsed ineffectively. She was helplessly pinned between them. Dime no sooner put his hand over her mouth to muffle her noises, and Phil started groaning.

Phil's hands were all over all at once; fisted up in Dime's hair and pulling, stroking his neck, brushing over Dime's one accessible nipple, pressing finger-tip shaped bruises into his thigh.

Phil set up a brutal rhythm, moving the shuddering girl with the force of his thrusts. When Phil would pull out, Dime would slide in, perfectly attuned to one another as if they'd been sharing girls all their lives. She was unable to speak or move, or concentrate on much of anything other than the dicks splitting her in two. She laid heavy on Dime, hips rocking uncoordinated, drooling and moaning into his palm as her cunt squeezed the breath out of Dime.

Phil plastered himself to her spine, sweaty skin slicking against sweaty skin. He sunk his teeth into the meat of her shoulder. His hand snaked between her stomach and Dime's to stroke at her. She tightened impossibly around them both, and gushed exquisitely on Dime's dick, hot and wet and perfect.

Dime's balls were already drawing up tight. He was not going to last much longer. Phil's rhythm was faltering, too. His face was pinched up and a blush settled on his chest. Dime focused on the little inhuman noises that escaped Phil when Dime took a handful of his girl's ass and his fingertips grazed the dick that slicked in and out of her.

"Bet you come before I do," Dime panted, lips quirking upward into that wicked grin that meant he was feeling mischievous. He was practically glowing in the low light as the dust motes floated through the small beam of ambient light and past his electric blue eyes.

"Not fuckin' likely," responded Phil as the muscles his jaw flexed and he steeled himself for a little friendly competition.

Phil leaned down, around his girl, and traced his tongue along Dime's nipple. Dime felt like he was being electrocuted as Phil closed his teeth around it, and then his lips. His dick twitched hard buried inside Phil's girl. They all moaned at the sensation.

Dime's hand slapped down on her alabaster ass-cheek causing her to tighten like a vice around Phil. She yelped and stuck her ass out, arching her back. Phil let out a sound like he was wounded and juddered atop them before regaining his composure, that fucking asshole.

Dime decided to bring out the big guns. He licked his lips and stared directly into Phil's face. He let go of the girl's mouth. She took deep gulps of air and buried her face in his shoulder. Dime wrapped his leg around Phil's calf and ran both hands up Phil's torso, scraping along his hip bones and thrumming over his ribs, dragging over his nipples. A trail of goosebumps chased after him.

Phil's eyes got wider and the color drained from his face as Dime's hands continued up to his neck, to close over his windpipe and squeeze. The cocky smirk finally slipped from his lips. His eyes rolled in his head before his eyelids fluttered shut. The veins in his neck and forehead bulged. His jaw went slack, pleasure distorted his pretty features as his mouth opened on a silent scream and his hips hitched. One hand came up to grab Dime's wrist. Dime pulled him towards his face, and sealed his fate with a sloppy kiss to his mouth. Phil's girl was quivering around them as Phil thrust deep and stilled, emptying his balls into her. His whole body was bow-tight, sinewy tendons and vascularity standing out across his shoulders and in his forearm where he worked her through another orgasm. His torso fluttered ineffectively, struggling for breath. Dime followed them into euphoria, reveling in the surge of wetness from Phil and the girl soaking him. Dime floated into oblivion on waves of pleasure as they wracked his body. Lost in the sensations, he released his friend's throat and thrust languidly into the wet warmth above him. Phil collapsed on top of them, his color returning in a rush, high on his cheeks. Dime's hands stroked through the sweat on Phil's back as they returned to themselves. Phil's arms absentmindedly encircled the two bodies beneath him. With time, the boys softened and eased out of her gingerly. They rearranged themselves using as little energy as possible before falling asleep in a tangle of hair and sweat and come.


End file.
